She paused.
I heard her take a deep breath before she spoke again. “She’d written to me on every birthday. She remembered the little mark on my wrist. She asked if I liked music. She wanted to know whether I was happy.”
I pressed the phone to my ear.
“I used to wonder about you,” I admitted. “Not a twin. Just whether I had family somewhere I’d never met. I didn’t know why I felt that way.”
“I knew about you,” she said. “Irene told me I had a sister. She just said you didn’t know I existed. I thought you had a wonderful life and there was no room for me in it.”
“You should have had the chance to find out.”
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